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Poem by Paul Hamilton Hayne


After the Tornado


LAST eve the earth was calm, the heavens were clear;
A peaceful glory crowned the waning west,
And yonder distant mountain's hoary crest
The semblance of a silvery robe did wear,
Shot through with moon-wrought tissues; far and near
Wood, rivulet, field--all Nature's face--expressed
The haunting presence of enchanted rest.
One twilight star shone like a blissful tear,
Unshed. But now, what ravage in a night!
Yon mountain height fades in its cloud-girt pall;
The prostrate wood lies smirched with rain and mire;
Through the shorn fields the brook whirls, wild and white;
While o'er the turbulent waste and woodland fall,
Glares the red sunrise, blurred with mists of fire!



Paul Hamilton Hayne


Paul Hamilton Hayne's other poems:
  1. Too Oft the Poet in Elaborate Verse
  2. An Idle Poet, Dreaming in the Sun
  3. “The Old Man of the Sea”
  4. Now, While the Rear-Guard of the Flying Year
  5. In Harbor


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